


Phenotype- A Star Trek Fic

by LuxCh3rry



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), Star Trek: The Animated Series, Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Action, Angst, Death, Exploring, F/M, ILY, Love him though, New World, Star Trek - Freeform, almost everyone dies tbh, author can only apparently write while half asleep so blease forgive any spelling mistakes, author enjoys creating wacky aliens, basically a whole new star trek episode, being continued, big rip, blease dont bully me thanks, bless, i mean i wrote it thinking of animated-series spock but, kirk is a little bitch, long chapters, my first posted fic, perfectionist writing, reader has anxiety, reader is female, really long fic, slowburn, sorry boys, spock is determined to be emotionless, spock just generally being handsome, star trek crew just chillin, the shit hits the fan, this can be applicable to ALMOST any spock-related fiction, this isnt just about spock i promise lol, uuuh i create a load of funky aliens, uuuh thanks for reading if you do, uuuh we stan a half-vulcan icon, we gettin there boys, you do you
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-06
Updated: 2019-09-11
Packaged: 2020-01-05 17:38:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 16
Words: 14,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18370859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LuxCh3rry/pseuds/LuxCh3rry
Summary: Spock x Reader slowburn, with a ton of angst. I'm serious, so much angst... This is practically a whole new Star Trek episode. Reader has anxiety in this book!ATTENTION: THIS STORY IS ON HOLD AND WILL LIKELY NOT BE UPDATED FOR A LONG TIME. I'm so sorry about this! Its just not possible for me to continue at this point in time!---Also posted to Wattpad under the name Strawberry-Milkshook. Currently a work in progress. Please notify me if you spot any errors! ✨---"When you open your eyes (which you hadn't realised you'd closed) you're standing on a rocky peak overlooking a large city, dazzling green in colour. Gasping, you watch in wonder as strange creatures leap from tree to tree in the forest-submerged city, the sunlight glittering on spiral towers and sleek buildings.You step forward, lost in admiration, but something stops you. Looking down, you see Spock pulling you back with a bemused expression, pebbles falling down the cliff-side you were about to step into."Oh" you rub your neck, trying not to turn red, "Thank you.""





	1. Starry Eyes

**Author's Note:**

> Commander (Y/N) is stationed in the bridge for this mission, in place of Sulu (who is on holiday with his husband). This is the story of the rescue mission, and all else that happens within. Chapter 2 will be out by the end of this week :)

"Engines are fine sir, purring like kittens." Scotty exclaims, his voice loud through the comm. Kirk winces and turns the dial down. It's too early to have a scotsman yelling at him, hell, it's always too early for that. "Wonderful, Scotty. Keep me posted." he ends the transmission, and spins in his chair with a sigh. What they don't prepare you for in the academy, is the piercing boredom of travelling in space. He'd never give it up, but the time between the missions is something that noone ever tells you you'd have to suffer through. He spins again and taps his fingers on his thigh, "(L/N)? Are we on course still?" You quirk an eyebrow, "Yes sir, I'd inform you if we changed." "Good. You do that." He hums, and taps at his screen, "How much time until we get there?" You grin, "You sound like a petulant child sir. Still 4 hours to go." Before Kirk can protest, Mr Spock cuts in dryly, "Correct that to 4 hours, 16 minutes and 46 seconds, Commander." You shift your head nervously, "Yes, apologies." Kirk nods and lounges in his seat, "I'm going to do some research on Jsi. Spock, you take over for now. Notify me if there are any changes." "Captain, with respect-" Kirk cuts Spock off with a dazzling smile, "Thank you for your respect, Spock." And disappears, off to his chambers for a nap no doubt. Spock lightly sighs and moves to sit in the Captain's chair, continuing his research there. The crew sits in silence for a while, each performing their own tasks. It's not an uncomfortable silence, but one quite familiar and gentle. Anyone could talk, but instead they just breathe in the sweet air of the Enterprise and continue their work. ~~~ "Just 5 minutes to arrival, sir." You call to Spock, swallowing your nerves. The excitement of being in control of the helm was threatening to overwhelm you, but you beat it back by thinking of the responsibility and paperwork you'd have to face if anything went wrong. The thought was forlorn, and it must have shown on your face, and Spock quirked a brow at you, "Noted, Commander." he sends a message to Kirk informing him, and readjusts his shirt, pulling it self-consciously. You notice, and brave a comment, "Just try having a dress, sir. These things are a nightmare to wear." He frowns and tilts his head at you, "I think I will not, thank you, Commander. Although if I would I'd feel pity for your predicament." There's a snort from Chekov, who hurriedly hides his face. You suppress a giggle and smile at Spock, doing your best to match Kirk's earlier dazzling display, "Thank you, sir." Kirk marches onto the Bridge, obviously enchanted by the chance of upcoming action. He takes his seat from Spock and slides into it smoothly, giving it a small spin, "Spock, tell me what the sensor's got!" "The planet seems to be functioning normally, Captain. It is a tropical planet, with 31°c temperature and high levels of humidity. No unusual energy readings detected." The clicks and whirrs of the Enterprise, as well as Spock's cool, stable voice, soothe and calm you. Your eyes flutter closed for a moment, and you try as hard as you can to memorize this feeling. The feeling of being home, and safe... "(L/N), enter orbit of the planet. I'd like visuals." You snap open your eyes and resume control, tapping away at the helm. And frowning. "Uh, helm not responding, sir." You say thickly, concealing nerves. Why was it not responding? What did you do wrong?! Spock comes over to investigate, and leans over you, pressing buttons so quickly you can't see what he's doing. "It's frozen, Keptin. No rezponce" Chekov adds helpfully, splaying his hands over the buttons. Spock huffs and hurries Chekov's hands away, fiddling with the helm, "The mechanism seems to be blocked. An engineer could fix this is roughly 35 minutes." He states, more machine than the one he currently fiddles with. You sigh quietly, Spock confused you, sometimes he acted warm towards you, and others he was just as cold as a stranger, if not more. Social interaction confused you anyway, so talking to Spock was just downright bamboozling. "Kirk to Engineering. I need someone up here to fix the helm, stat." Something feels off in your gut, like a rock in the pit of your stomach or a dagger in your intestines. You quietly perform breathing exercises to calm yourself. It's alright, it's not your fault, just a normal malfunction, it's nothing to worry about. Once the helm is back under control, you pull the ship into orbit, and pull up visuals of the planet. You almost gasp, it looks like home, Earth! For some unknown reason this settles the anxiety, and you feel calm once more. Space is beautiful, but sometimes you'd do anything just to sit by the fire with your pet cat and a mug of hot chocolate, staring out into the rain. "Readings remain the same, Captain." Spock nods, as if answering a silent question. You wonder not for the first time, what goes on in that complex brain of his. "Send out a hailing frequency, Uhura." The Captain taps his hands on the console and leans forward in his chair for a better look, a smile forming on his face. Despite how he'd probably be ashamed, smiling before a rescue mission, everyone knew that Kirk is addicted to the rush you get when completing missions. He's the best at his job, why wouldn't he? You, on the other hand, are not looking forward to the mission. You'd gone from being a simple student working a simple Starfleet job to suddenly being promoted to... This. It's a dream come true, but that doesn't stop you from dreading the outcome. Uhura taps away and responds, "Just the repeated distress signal message sir. No other response." Kirk rubs at his bottom lip, "Play the message, Uhura." The sound of overhead starships rips through the speakers, and a feeble Jsian voice whimpers,"Help- Help us!" They pause and lower their voice, moving closer to the microphone, "We've angered our Gods." The sound cuts off, and the crew sits in silence. Spock is the first to break it. "Starships overhead, interesting. We are the only Starships orbiting Jsi at this moment Captain." A pause. "Any information on Jsian religion, Spock?" He scrolls and taps quietly for a while, before tilting his head, "Most of Jsi are fiercely religious, believing in five main gods, of reptilian nature. There are many tales of the violent nature of the Gods, and their volatile nature." Another thoughtful hum escapes Kirk, "Another hail, Uhura. Tell them we're landing with a rescue party." He pauses and nods at Spock, "Myself, Spock, (L/N) and a security team will beam down to Jsi, just outside of the capital city." You choke in surprise and hold your breath. Why you? Why not anyone else?! They both stand up and walk towards the Turbolift, leaving you to scramble up and chase after them. Once the lift doors have closed, you venture a question, "Captain, apologies, but am I the most qualified for this mission? Why me?" He answers with a smile and stares off into the distance of the elevator, "I always test fresh meat on the first mission. Everybody needs a chance to prove themselves" he turns to look at you contemplatingly, "and by the looks of you, you haven't had that chance yet." As the doors hiss open you scrunch up your face in utter confusion. Fresh meat? By the looks of you? What the hell does he mean by that?! You rub at your face anxiously and follow them to get geared up. A snake coils and writhes in the pit of your gut. Not literally, of course. The person manning the transporter nods at Kirk as you enter. He ignores Spock and you, and fiddles with some scary-looking dials, "There's a rocky outcrop of land near the largest city, Captain. Will this suffice?" "Perfect" Kirk exclaims, as the security team hurry in. It's unclear whether it's in response to the security or the transporter person's question. Tapping your foot, you turn to Spock in desperation, "What's it like on Jsi?" Thinking for a second, he checks his equipment belt absent-mindedly, "It's remarkably Earth-like, with thick but breathable air and high levels of humidity, flora and fauna. Much like an Earth rainforest." He pauses, "a pleasant environment for your first mission." His words warm you, and your heart rate decreases. This isn't so bad. You can do this. It's gonna be awesome. You're gonna save some aliens and kick some ass. The pins and needles feeling of being transported overwhelms you, starting in your torso and spreading to the rest of your body. When you open your eyes (which you hadn't realised you'd closed) you're standing on a rocky peak overlooking a large city, dazzling green in colour. Gasping, you watch in wonder as strange creatures leap from tree to tree in the forest-submerged city, the sunlight glittering on spiral towers and sleek buildings. You step forward, lost in admiration, but something stops you. Looking down, you see Spock pulling you back with a bemused expression, pebbles falling down the cliff-side you were about to step into. "Oh" you rub your neck, trying not to turn red, "Thank you." Mouth twitching in what could possibly be described as a smile, he removes his hand and turns to Kirk, "The city appears mostly deserted. Should we investigate further?" Looking closer, you realise he's right. The only movement and sound comes from the many-limbed blue animals climbing the trees, small and nimble but not the Jsians you'd heard of. The city is empty. Kirk nods and begins making his descent down the other, less steep side of the cliff. It's only a short walk until you reach the city, and from there you're enchanted again, staring up into the blue sky, watching pale maroon clouds drift past lazily. A faint whisper escapes your lips, "Is this normal?" you turn to Spock, "Is this what you see normally? Are you used to this now?" His lips quirk again, in what you believe to be his version of a smile, "If you mean to ask if every planet has green cities and red clouds, they do not. However," he softens his voice, "I have not found myself getting accustomed to anything just yet." In the centre of the city, a large emerald building with spikes and spirals glitters in the sun, it's multi-colour mosaics casting rainbows over the scenery around it. The doors are locked and barred, but they swiftly open when you approach. A strange being peers through the open door. It has spiked horns folded back over goat-like ears, with great tufts of fur protruding. Its face is vaguely humanoid, but with a flat snout and delicate teeth, which it bares at you defensively, "Taçh nok bar‽ Tesnevreboch bar føhe‽" Spock pulls out his universal translator, and it obediently pipes out, _"Who are you? What do you want?"_ Kirk clears his throat, "We are a rescue team from the Starship Enterprise, from the United Federation of Starfleet. You sent us a distress signal, requesting assistance." At the Jsian's puzzled expression, he continues gingerly, "...The assistance is here." You can see Kirk fighting with himself not to do jazz hands. "Beis frgaen jvo kegal." _"We sent no signal."_ Kirk and Spock share a worried look before Kirk launches into a pre-planned speech, "The federation is a community based company- we do not charge for rescue missions or expect anything in return. We are here to help." He sighs, "You sent a distress signal with the exact words, 'Help, Help, we have angered our Gods.' Ring any bells?" The Jsian squeaks and it's muddy green skin seems to slacken, "Beis frgaen che‽ Nok bar jhre‽" _"We sent that? Are you sure?"_ Spock raises an eyebrow, and Kirk nods emphatically. The Jsian mutters something that the translator can't pick up, and moves to close the door. Kirk sticks his foot in the way and his brows knit together, "If we are not needed, please just say." As soon as the Jsian opens its mouth to reply, a terrible wailing scream rips through the air. The Jsian's eyes cloud over with fear and conflict, "Bar nok gnehsbi kjete, ekgeg soi jen kso." _"You are terribly needed, but please never come back."_ They slam and lock the door.


	2. Chapter 2- Lonely Chapel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You n the crew investigate further

The three security team members shift nervously, and one of them finally speaks up, "Well what the hell do we do now?"  
Kirk scuffs his shoe into the dirt, "I... I'm not sure. We can't just bust in there when they clearly don't want help, but what was that scream about? And what did they mean about needing help? This makes no sense. Spock, tell me you have an idea?"  
Spock clasps his hands neatly behind his back, "Well Captain, it is possible that [REDACTED] are [REDACTED], and that the so-called [REDACTED] [REDACTED] could really [REDACTED]. if i include my speculation, then [REDACTED] [REDACTED] could [REDACTED] [REDACTED] entirely."  
Everybody stares at him in shock.  
"That's ridiculous, Spock! This isn't a shitty drama story written by a teenage girl!" Kirk bursts out, laughing, "I respect you, Spock, honestly i do. But that is just out of this world."  
Spock huffs and turns away, "We'll see."

"Anyway," you add tentatively, "What's the plan now, Captain? Should we stake-out here, return to the Enterprise and call it done, or break in?"  
He blinks, "Well, returning to the Enterprise isn't an option. We haven't come all this way for nothing, I can feel it. If we're to break in or stake-out, we'd need equipment. I'll call for some."  
Spock turns back towards him, "Captain, I am confused, are you breaking in or camping outside?"  
Kirk shrugs, "I'll decide when Uhura picks up."  
The comm buzzes and everything falls silent, waiting for Uhura. It dimly occurs to you that there is the sound of faint tortured screaming in the distance.  
Uhura doesn't pick up.  
"Hmm, that's not good."  
One of the security personnel- the purple-haired one who had spoken earlier- bursts out, "Fucking hell it isn't! I don't want to be trapped on some creepy planet with screaming-"   
"That's quite enough, Ms Lynn." Kirk interrupts, "There's no reason to swear; this is under control."   
The words Ms Lynn mutters under her breath suggests she does not agree.  
"Captain, may I see? I may be able to fix it."  
Kirk nods and hands it over, "Is anyone else's comm working?"  
There's a series of grunts and groans as everybody checks their comms and find them unresponsive.   
Ms Lynn swears. Nobody stops her.  
"There is a block in this machinery, Captain. I can fix it, but it will take 29 minutes. It's the same problem that occurred with the helm on the Enterprise."   
"That's odd." Kirk muses, "Please do fix it, Spock. Then we'll call for supplies for a stakeout."

~~~

"Certainly, Captain. They will be beamed down to you shortly."  
"Thanks, Uhura. Keep scanning the planet, please."  
"Will do. Uhura out"  
The frequency closes and Kirk sighs, sitting down on the forest floor. Screams echo in the distance.   
"We can't just... sit here. We have to do something." You murmur, "they're not gonna let us in."  
Spock kneels down beside you, "What do you propose?"  
You glance up at him, surprised, and pull at a stand of hair framing your face, "We could try to find another way in? Its technically not breaking and entering if its open..?"  
His lips part and he tilts his head, in a way that reminds you of a small robin, "That is a satisfactory idea. I will inform the Captain."  
Shards of reflected rainbows dance across his face as he gets up and makes his way over to where Kirk is sitting.  
It occurs to you, in a quiet kind of way, that he's very pretty.

Kirk jumps up, "Up we get, c'mon crew. We're scouting around for another way in. No, don't groan at me, groan at Commander (L/N) this is her idea. Wait no, don't groan at her this is a good idea. Stop complaining."  
Spock walks back over to you, amusement glittering in his eyes, he holds out his hand to help you up and you take it gratefully, taking secret delight in the soft warmth of his skin. How could you have never noticed how pretty his hands are? Soft and gentle, yet firm when need be.   
Blinking, you brush dust off of your dress, cursing and tugging it back down when you see it's ridden up at the side. Curse the uniform designer of Starfleet!  
Not really though, truthfully you enjoy the uniform, in its smooth cut and futuristic design. The deep crimson colour reminiscent of fresh, ripe apples.  
"Commander (L/N)? Are you functioning correctly?" Spock peers at you curiously.  
Your face flushes the colour of your dress, "Oh, yes, sorry. I got lost in thought."  
He raises a brow as he walks, matching his walking pace to yours, "What, may I enquire, were you contemplating?"  
"Nothing interesting, just the Starfleet uniforms."  
Spock hums a small sound, similar to a laugh but not quite, "Again? Starfleet uniforms seem to be a subject that you frequently consider."  
Looking down at your feet, walking in rhythm with Spock (which felt strangely intimate) you bite your tongue to keep from laughing too loud, "It does seem that way. I promise that's not all I think of."   
A blood-curdling scream shatters the atmosphere, and you clamp your hands over your ears. Spock grimaces and does the same.  
Kirk starts running, taking off around the back of the church, where one of the ornate gilded windows have been smashed. Blood pools around the delicate shards descrated on the gravel floor.  
Spock departs from your side, and kneels by the puddle, scanning with his tricorder, "Jsian blood, recently spilt." He gingerly picks up and examines a piece of glass, "Mural artwork of the reptilian Gods"  
"Are we gonna go in or what?" quips Ms Lynn, who has her phaser pointed at the entrance. She appears unfazed by the blood, and you wonder for a moment what it would be like to be her.  
You would surely be able to make a move on Spock easily if you were her.  
Kirk steps forward into the chapel, sets his phaser to stun and points it, his face drawn into concern, "Someone in there needs our help."   
Spock clears the window area of broken glass and climbs through, putting out his hand to help you again.  
Chewing the side of your cheek with worry, you grasp his warm steady hand and pull yourself through, nodding to him in thanks. The chapel makes you feel uneasy, the same way a graveyard or hospital did. It was the sense of foreboding, or dangerous possibility. The air felt charged with energy.  
A loud cry echoes from down the left of one of the long corridors, and Kirk snaps to attention. Ms Lynn and the other parts of the security team move ahead in formation, checking in each small prayer room as they pass.  
Kirk, Spock and you follow at a small distance, phasers pointed. The air tastes rancid.  
"Fuck- fucking hell, there's something- no, someone here. I think- oh god-" one of the guards choke out, eyes wide. They clutch their phaser with shaking arms and recoil, rigid with shock.  
Another tortured wail, from the room the guard looks into.  
Kirk hurries over and peers in, only to stagger out, ashen-faced. He pulls out his comm with shaking hands, "Get a fleet of medical staff down here, immediately."


	3. Chapter 3- Blood Drenched

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They find a Jsian woman injured and shaking badly in the church, Spock tries to stop (Y/N) from seeing it but (Y/N) insists. She then freaks out and Spock takes her outside to comfort her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is seriously graphic gore wise, so feel free to just read the summary and leave it at that :^)

"Spock, What is it?" You ask nervously. The Vulcan is standing in front of you, his face unreadable. You try to move around him but he moves to stand in your way, "I believe it would be best if you stayed behind me." He murmurs darkly, as medical staff file in past him.  
A pang of frustration hits you; Spock has been treating you like a helpless damsel, helping you up constantly and telling you what to do. The fact you appreciate it is irrelevant, he really shouldn't be treating you this way.  
"I have as much a right as any, Mr Spock. Please move."  
He puts a hand out, stopping you from getting past, "I insist nonetheless."  
Kirk's voice rings out from the room, "I'm sorry Spock, but I need you and your tricorder in here-"  
If he meant to say anything else, it was drowned out by screaming.  
Spock grimaces and removes his hand, walking swiftly into the room, you follow him, eager to see what had frightened even Spock into caring.   
You clamp a hand over your mouth, shock slamming into you, and fear creeping like cold sweat down the back of your neck and back.   
In the centre of the room is a Jsian woman sprawled on the floor, spasming and frothing at the mouth. Her limbs are contorted, and blood is splattered around the room from wounds torn open by her forced thrashing. Her screams are interrupted when her mouth snaps closed, and then open again, like a marionette doll thrown about by an unruly child.

Doctors crowd around her, prodding and holding and injecting. Nothing stops the spasming, and the woman wails in pain.  
You stand there, silently frozen in shock and pure horror, until someone notices you and pulls you away. The face is blurred, but their voice is undoubtedly Spock's. Your brain seems to be only registering the body, watching the moment over and over and over again.  
The click and grinding of her teeth, the froth overflowing from her mouth, the tears in the skin and the white of splintered bone showing through.  
Someone takes you by the hand. Someone pulls you away. Someone is speaking to you.  
Blinking, you realise your face is slick with tears. You try to brush them away with your hand but remember at the last minute someone is holding your hand. They mistake the movement for you wanting to get away and swiftly let go, backing off.  
"I trust you are capable of speech, (Y/N)?"  
Rubbing at your face, you look up to see Spock assessing you, his hands clutched neatly behind his back.  
"I... Yes. I can speak, yeah." You say, but it comes out as a whisper.  
"That is favourable. Do you need to lie down?"  
Looking around you, you realise you're propped up against the outside wall of the church. The wind is cool and calms you down.  
"I think I'm okay, thank you Spock. I really appreciate your help."  
You pull yourself up, using the wall as support. A wave of dizziness clouds over you but you stay still and breathe, focussing on Spock's face, and it dissipates.  
He tilts his head, "It was the logical thing to do, although it would have been avoided if you had followed my advice."  
A blush creeps over your face, and you wipe away the last of the tears to hide it, "Yeah, I'm sorry..."  
You want to say more, but you trail off instead.   
He nods curtly, "Ensure you listen next time, Commander. I will be in the Chapel, please enter when you feel ready."  
As he climbs back in, you slide back down the wall and clutch your head. Before the images of the woman overwhelm you, you're conscious of one thought: You hadn't realised he'd been using your first name until he had swapped back to using Commander.


	4. Chapter 4- Hallways

"Walk with me?"  
You blink, looking up at Mr Spock, who is standing perfectly formal in your doorway.  
"I'm sorry, w-walk? I don't understand?"  
He steps into your quarters and examines a stack of paper on the side, "When I need to think, it is pleasant to take a walk around the Enterprise. It is sometimes also pleasing to have someone to walk around with."  
Placing down your PADD, which you had been listening to music on, you stand up, "Oh- I'm sorry, sure."  
He waits for you to walk over and then begins walking, his hands clasped behind his back. Pausing, he tentatively adds "There was no need to apologise. Unless I am unaware of something?"  
"Unaware? No, I uh-" you stammer out, coughing nervously, "I just tend to apologise a lot. Sorry."  
Raising an eyebrow in amusement, he continues walking. Just as last time, his steps pace in time to yours, "I understand you must have been disturbed by the events on the away mission. I apologise for not doing more to prevent this."  
"It's not your fault, Mr Spock." You murmur, looking at your feet, "You did plenty- I was foolish not to trust your judgement."  
His brow quirks even higher, if possible, and tilts his head, "Well, yes, but no begrudgements are held on my part. I do hope you hold the same opinion."  
"Yes, I mean, of course.'  
His walking pace slows down slightly, and he watches the people walking past you both. After a short while of walking in comfortable silence, he opens his mouth to speak, "You do not know of having any empathic abilities, yes?"  
You blink, "Uh, no, I don't? Why?"  
Worrying at his lower lip, he gestures with his hands as he talks, "You seem to project your emotions quite strongly, some humans do. Particularly when you are nervous, the emotion is difficult for me to block out."  
What??  
"I'm sorry, ...I don't understand. I'm... Projecting my fear?"  
He nods curtly, "Even now you are mildly worried. Vulcans are naturally telepathic, so I can pick up on strongly projected emotions." Pausing, he licks his lips nervously, out of character for the Vulcan you knew, "You, however, seem to project fear strongly almost all of the time. I cannot help but be influenced."  
His words hinted at accusation, and the sting makes you shrink away from his gaze, "I'm sorry, I can't help it. If I could stop being scared I would!"  
Turning to you, he regains composure and neatly holds his hands behind his back, "What if I could aid you? Would you allow me?"  
You frown, nerves twisting in your gut, "What do you mean?"  
"Vulcan meditation is well known for its calming properties, I could attempt to teach you."  
"Oh." You respond, surprised. The idea of Spock offering something like that seemed alien, far too compassionate for what you'd heard of him, "I... would appreciate that. Thank you."  
Raising an eyebrow, he increases his walking pace, "it is only logical."  
Smiling, you hurry to increase your speed to his, "Of course, so when will my first lesson be?"  
"Likely sometime this week. Is tomorrow morning 7 am sufficient? I find meditation is easiest with a mind not yet burdened with the day's events."  
Of course, Spock is a morning person. You suppress a sigh, "Sounds good."

~~~

The lights flicker in sickbay over Vera Lynn, who glares at them in frustration. McCoy scans her with some weird buzzing scanny thing, and she's not happy about it. She felt weak and stupid going to sickbay for a stiff arm when the Jsian patient writhes in pain in the corner, surrounded by Doctors.  
"Can you fix it or not, Doc? I wanna get back to phaser practice."   
"First of all," grunts McCoy, "Never call me Doc again. Second, it's not just cramped. There's something wrong with your arm and I need to know what it is."  
Vera just groans and stares out of the windows into space. She would never show it, but the stiffness of her arm frightened her. How could she defend herself if she couldn't even move her own damn hand?  
McCoy frowns and waves the scanner again, tapping at it.  
"What's the thingy say?" Vera adds, peering at it.  
"Well," he hedges, "It's either a broken 'thingy' or you have a nasty advanced virus."  
A pause.  
"Huh, so you have a broken thingy. Guess sickbay needs better thingys." Vera quips, hopping of the bed and sauntering back out into the corridor.  
McCoy only sighs and lets her go, returning to the Jsian woman. Bad enough these strange mechanical blocks are happening all over the place, now it's affecting the scanners too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the short chapter, the next chapter makes up for it I promise!


	5. Chapter 5- Wolves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meditation Lessons

You stand outside of Spock's quarters, hovering outside. Despite your resolve to see him you simply cannot take the step forward.  
It's 10 minutes exactly to 7 am. You are clean, dressed in your uniform (neatly ironed) and your hair is coiled into a tight braid, forming a crown around your head.  
Breathing in and out slowly, you go to step forward and knock, but again, freeze. Fear trickles like icy water down your spine and you bite your nails, looking around the empty corridor.  
The clock on your PADD clicks quietly. 8 minutes to 7.  
This is ridiculous, c'mon girl you can do this.  
You gingerly step forwards, expecting disaster, but nothing happens, the corridor is silent, apart from the click of the clock and your laboured breathing.  
5 minutes to 7.  
Covering your face, you reach out with the last of your courage- but before you can knock the door slides open. You pull your hand back and stare in shock and embarrassment at Spock, who is standing in the doorway with an eyebrow raised.  
"My apologies, Ensign. I sensed your fear through the door and thought it best to intervene before you spiralled." He adds helpfully, his hands clasped neatly behind his back.  
Crap, he might as well have been watching you stand there awkwardly for 5 minutes.  
Rubbing your neck and praying you're not blushing, you follow him into his room, "ehm, thanks, I guess. Sorry about that."  
"There is no reason to apologise." He hums, leading you into a remarkably tidy sitting area, "I was not harmed, you were not late, and besides," he sits cross-legged on a white fluffy carpet, "That is what I am to help with today."  
Nodding, you follow suit and sit cross-legged on the comfortable carpet. It strikes you as a very human thing for Spock to own, being so fluffy and cosy.  
You run your hand over it and smile at the sheer amount of fluff and comfort this carpet has.  
Noticing your joy, Spock tilts his head, "I borrowed this carpet from the Captain. I usually meditate on the floor, but I understand this can be uncomfortable for some."  
"Oh." You say, simultaneously pleased by his thoughtfulness and disappointed that he doesn't own the fluffy carpet, "Thank you, it means a lot."  
You smile at him, and he looks down at his lap, steeping his hands together and locking his fingers in an odd pattern, "It takes many years for a Vulcan to truly master meditation, but I will try to teach what is more relevant. First of all, I will show you some different ways of meditation. The primary state is sitting cross-legged on the floor, with your open palms upwards, placed on your knees. This is the simplest to achieve, but hardly effective. Only young Vulcan children frequently use this method."  
You nod enthusiastically, his voice is soft and his eyes earnest. It is obvious he feels calm and happy talking about Vulcan culture.  
"Different positions correspond to different mediation types. The position for purging emotion is hands steepled together, with index fingers pointing upwards and pinky fingers wrapped around each other. The arrangement of the other fingers specifies what type of emotion you desire to numb. For fear, the middle fingers are pulled down to rest against the inside of the palms, and the remaining fingers wrapped around each other."  
As he talks, he entwines his nimble fingers together with expert precision. The gestures remind you of embroidery, the way his fingers dart and weave.  
You attempt to follow his lead but its useless, so many fingers and so many things to do with them! How does he remember any of this, let alone do it!  
He watches you fumble for a second, but as soon as you start getting distressed and embarrassed he steps in.  
Leaning closer to you, he takes your hands in his, arranging them for you. You try to concentrate on how he does it, but the gentle warmth of his soft hands distracts you.  
Leaning back, he continues his explanations, your hands feel colder now his are gone, and your heart aches gently, "Just so. Remember this, Ensign. It is essential. Without the correct position, true meditation cannot be reached." he expresses. Although his face is neutral you can hear the pleasure in his voice, "Now you must focus on your breathing. In for 4 seconds, hold for 7 and out for 8.  
When this feels natural, you can proceed into the next step. Close your eyes. Feel your surroundings slowly fade away. You are no longer here, you are in your mind."  
Your eyes flutter shut, and you listen to the gentle melody of his voice.  
"Picture somewhere calm, somewhere you can be yourself. There is no danger, all is still."  
Chewing on your lip, you try to imagine somewhere calm. Your room on the Enterprise, perhaps? No, that won't do. It's far too messy and ordinary. Your old home? Too distant to remember properly.  
A small sigh escapes you, and you open your eyes. Spock is watching you, with his lips parted. He glances away when your gaze meets his, "You cannot find a place? It doesn't have to be one you already know. Use your imagination."  
It has often been remarked what a creative mind you have, by most of your teachers. Despite this, you simply cannot imagine somewhere completely and utterly calm. Your mind seems to sense danger everywhere, "I... I don't know. I can't find somewhere calm..."

You expect him to raise a brow and act cold, but instead he moves closer to you and softens his voice, "May I help?"  
Nodding nervously, you watch as he reaches out a hand. His fingertips brush your cheek as he finds pressure points, positioning his hand in what you know as a Vulcan mind meld.  
The touch submerges you in dizziness, and your mind flies into hyperdrive. What if he can see what you're thinking? What if he's disgusted by what he sees? What if he throws you out of his room? You can imagine it now, his face marred by abhorrence as he hisses at you to never talk to him again.

Thoughts like these tear like bullets through your mind, inflicting injury upon injury. By the time Spock has closed his eyes your mind is in a frenzy.  
"Breathe, (Y/N). Remember to breathe. The situation is under control. You are in control." he soothes, a bitter tinge of panic in his words. It's obvious he is effected by your emotions, and is trying his best to numb them.  
"I- can't. I can't" you choke out, digging your nails into your palms.  
"(Y/n) it's okay. It's going to be okay." he pulls his fingers away and you immediately cover your face with your hands, "I'm here; you're safe. There's nothing wrong. You're safe."  
Concentrating on your breathing, you let your eyes explore Spock's room. It's remarkably neat, with few personal items. A bookshelf with ancient tomes written in Vulcan fills the corner, and opposite to it a neat standard starfleet bed with cerulean covers.  
"Would you like to try again?" he adds softly, after a while.  
Breathing out, you nod. Spock is trying so hard to help you, it can't just be because you're an annoyance, can it?  
Regardless, he's gone to a lot of effort. Giving up now would be rude... that, and you really enjoy being in his company. Just the feeling of being in his room is making you giddy with excitement. You feel special. Not many people get to see Spock's quarters, you think with a smirk.  
Immediately after thinking that you berate yourself, he is about to enter your mind, idiot!  
Alright, just think normal bland thoughts. The weather. How pretty Spock's minimalist room is. His beautiful hazel, honey eyes.  
You suppress a groan.  
Spock carefully places his delicate fingers on the left side of your face. His hands are cool, and send goosebumps rising on your skin.  
"Think of any place" he breathes, closer to you now, "It doesn't have to be calm, just think of a place and you standing in it."  
Closing your eyes, you picture a moon-lit forest. The golden glow of fairy lights strung along the gnarled oak trees illuminates your face. The air is warm, and the smell of pinecones and moss invades your senses.  
Looking down, you see you are no longer in your Starfleet uniform, but a loose cream dress. The hem brushes along the moss floor, disturbing beetles and twigs.  
Your hair, before tightly coiled in a braid on your head, now hangs in soft ringlets around your face.  
For a brief moment you stand like this, breathing in the sweet air, but then a presence behind you makes you spin around.  
Spock stands with his hands neatly clutched behind his back, in his Starfleet uniform. His eyes wander, drinking in the surroundings your mind has created, before finally settling on you.  
Is it the light, or do you see a faint green tinge dancing on his throat and cheeks?  
The line of thought is interrupted by a sudden drop in the temperature, and a sharp breeze that tugs on your hair. You cross your arms and look around, sensing something amiss.  
"We should go inside." You mutter, glancing to where you know a large manor house is hidden beyond the trees. Despite not being there when you first arrived, you know it is there now. Strange mind logic, you guess.  
Spock only nods wistfully, lost in thought. He follows you down the twisting narrow path down the centre of the forest, away from the fairy-lit clearing.  
A guttural howl sends nerves crawling in the back of your neck, you spin around to locate it but the sound seems to be coming from all directions. Spock looks mildly worried and glances behind him as he speaks, "Remember, (Y/N), this is your mind. Nothing can hurt you. You control everything here."  
Giving a perfunctory nod, you begin walking again, wary of the now silent forest. Strange shadows flit from tree to tree, always just outside your vision. Spock follows you, a few steps behind. His hand hovers over his phaser.  
The sound of a drooling jaw snapping shut startles you and you break into a sprint, not daring to look behind you. Spock cries your name and follows- but there's more than just him after you. You can hear the snarls and pounding reverberations of paws on the dark forest floor. Wolfish eyes fixated on their prey as they sprint monstrously fast, faster and faster. They're almost on your tail as you reach the sturdy wooden door of the manor house, yanking it open and tumbling inside, locking the door shut after Spock falls in after you.  
You pull yourself to sit up against the door, breathing heavily. Spock kneels beside you and places a hand on your shoulder.  
Just as you open your mouth to speak to him, sharp snarling ripping sounds shatter the silence as the Wolves press up against the door, fighting desperately to get in, their blood-thirst devouring them.  
Gasping, you put all your weight into keeping the door closed. It no longer feels sturdy, but flimsy, made of paper. The thought of the wolves ripping through and tearing you and Spock to pieces clutches your mind before you battle it away. Think of nice things!!  
The horrific sounds slowly die away as the wolves lose interest, a low whine is emitted before they finally leave.  
Slumping against the door, you concentrate on your breathing pace for a moment before gingerly looking up to Spock, who is regarding you with a troubled expression.  
"You have an incredibly strong imagination," he says, his voice low and heavy, "One that you must learn to control."


	6. Chapter 6- Temptation

He stands up, and offers a hand to help you, which you gladly take. For a brief moment, your smaller hand is clutched in his, and you feel warm, a strong heady feeling dances in the depths of your heart. Then he pulls away and the coldness seeps back in. You wonder if he feels cold too.  
The room you are standing in seems to be an old fashioned study, with a roaring fireplace and leather loveseat positioned Infront of it. A large cluttered desk coupled with a regal studded armchair takes up most of the room. The steady patter of rain can be heard from outside, and you shiver from the penetrating cold.  
Spock walks over to the loveseat, and holds onto the back of it, he watches the fire as he talks, "Are you distressed?"  
You're about to shake your head, but realise he cannot see you, "No, no I'm fine." Walking over to him, you resist the urge to gently place your hand on his shoulder, "Listen, I... I don't think this is a good idea. It's too dangerous, I don't want to risk your life just because I get worried sometimes."  
He turns around, and the golden flickering light from the fire dances across his throat and face, casting half of him in shadow. It makes him look strangely... dangerous, "That does not matter. You being safe is far more important to me."  
Just before a blush and a gasp can grasp hold of you, he hurriedly continues, "Anxiety is extremely detrimental to my duties aboard the Enterprise. Your interference must be cut at all costs."  
Trying not to look utterly crushed, you nod and turn away. It shouldn't hurt this much to hear him disregard you. It shouldn't hurt nearly as much.  
A sharp tap at the window draws your attention, but Spock moves to block your vision of it. You wonder what sort of horror waits behind him.  
"Thank you, for this. All of this. I know you don't usually put so much effort into helping others and I really appreciate it. Your helping me, I mean. Yeah. I owe you one..." You trail off, embarrassed. Maybe if you could get across to him how much you appreciate him, he'll warm up to you? Hope blossoms in your heart as his stern expression softens, and he steps forward, his voice earnest despite its monotonous level, "You owe me nothing. I do not hold this against you. Anxiety is not a fault or a weakness, simply a part of you to be dealt with properly. Your mind is exceedingly expressive, and it simply requires additional training to keep it in order."  
A sunny smile breaks through the clouds of your face, and you feel like dancing in warm summer rain. The candles on the table flicker brighter and warmer and the tapping ceases completely.  
Plan success!! Be appreciative of Spock and he'll be appreciative of you!!! Code cracked!  
Suppressing a childish giggle, you turn your gaze to the untidy desk in the corner. It is filled with sheets, ranging from star charts to poetry to detailed sketches. The handwriting and art style matches your own, but you have never seen any of them before.  
Your eyes widen as you tentatively pick up a star chart diagram for a system labelled Sector 008(.12), which goes into detail describing the patterns and strange shapes these imaginary stars form.  
A hand reaches over yours and Spock picks up a sheet of paper. You lean over to see the paper but immediately turn crimson with embarrassment and hide your face with the star chart.  
You can hear the grin in his voice as he teases you, "I think the illustration bears a striking resemblance to me. Congratulations."  
Groaning, you crumple the paper as you push it further into your face. The drawing is a headshot of Spock, marvellously handsome in his uniform.  
"Your art style is aesthetically pleasing to me. I appreciate it." He murmurs, the room becomes warm and a traitor blush spreads across your face.  
Glancing up at you, his voice is hoarse and dark, "Your phenotype is also aesthetically pleasing."  
The words are clipped, as if he fights to get them out, but pumped full of so much meaning. Now if only you know what the hell he was trying to say.  
Tilting your head, you smile nervously, "Thanks, I think?"  
He opens his mouth to speak again- but snaps it shut and glances around, setting the paper back down, "Apologies, but this session is over. I have duties to attend to."  
Your stomach drops and you clench your teeth. Did you do something wrong?? Is he okay?? You're about to voice these thoughts when Spock abruptly steps out of your mind, swiftly as a rabbit back into the den. As he leaves the dream fades around you, slipping away like sand filtering through clutched hands. Gasping, you open your eyes to see Spock's room, same as before, but this time Spock breathes quietly Infront of you, closer than ever. It is then you notice the gentle touch of fingertips on the side of your face has changed into Spock cupping your face with his hand, and you leaning into the touch.  
Crimson floods across your face and you wonder if he can still read your mind like this. Oh lord, you hope not.  
The warm touch slowly pulls away and you hastily look up to see him slowly fluttering open his eyes. They look brighter now, fuller than they were before the mind meld. You hope that's a good thing.  
So many hopes.  
A loud buzz startles you from your reverie and you jump up, following Spock to the channel on the wall of his room. Jim is chatting loudly about energy readings and Spock raises an eyebrow, leaning against the wall as he listens.  
"Thank you, Captain. I will be on the bridge shortly."  
He closes his eyes and breathes out, preparing himself before turning to you, "I will now depart to the bridge. You may follow if you wish."  
Nodding dutifully, you walk briskly alongside him, watching as he clutches his hands neatly behind his back. You copy him, and if makes you feel strangely formal and important. A quiet laugh escapes you and Spock raises an eyebrow, his lip twitching in what you can recognise as a grin, "I would inquire as to what you find amusing, but it would doubtless be something irrelevant."  
Laughing again, you nod, "You always hold your hand behind your back. I tried it and it makes me feel very important."  
His eyes flutter downward, and a faint green tinge blesses his features, "You are important, regardless of your hand positions."  
The words are genuine, and you bite the tip of your tongue in bubbling joy, "Thank you. You are super important too."  
Spock merely tilts his head in acknowledgement as the doors to the bridge slide open with a hiss. You'd been so preoccupied with the conversation you hadn't even noticed the route there.  
"Spock! Come take a look at this, someone's been here, and not too long ago!" The Captain jumps up, grabbing Spock and pulling him to one of the monitors. Despite the science officer's stoic face, you can feel the curiosity coming off him in waves, "You'll have to be more specific, Captain. What knowledge have you attained? And how did you acquire these energy readings?" He adds, peering at them incredulously.  
You smile and walk over to your post, sitting down.  
"That's just the thing, Spock! They were hidden! Those readings show a very large ship passed over Jsi only a week ago, but something hid the readings from us!"  
Spock perks up and goes to speak- but Kirk cuts him off, "Before you ask, all of the instruments are working perfectly. I had Scotty check em himself. Plus, if they're good enough to hide those trails, they could be still here, but cloaked!"  
A jolt of anxiety hits you. A ship? Hidden? They'd have to be quite advanced to hide an entire ship from sensors, even the Klingon cloaking devices leave some small traces.  
Raising an eyebrow, Spock turns back to the readings and exhales heavily. His hands turn white clutching the monitor, "That is- unusual," he swallows and holds the monitor tighter, in danger of crushing it, "What ev- evi- evidence do you have to s-" breathing heavily, he stops and lets himself fall back into his chair. His features are twisted into panic. Kirk stands stunned for a second before rushing to help his friend, concern tainting his words, "Spock? You alright?"  
Spock tries to choke something out but gives up, rushing to the doors and leaving. The whole bridge is silent, but the shock wears off you first as you practically jump up, "Permission to go after him, Sir."  
Jim closes his slack-jaw mouth, and stares at the door, puzzled, "You think you can help him?"  
"I can try." You chew your lip nervously, unsure.  
"Well, if you succeed, please tell me how. Permission granted." He shrugs, turning back to the readings.


	7. Chapter 7- Visage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ~Where is Spocko hiding~

You race down the corridors, in blind panic trying to find Spock, and your mind flies in loops trying to think of what could have happened. You had felt his fear so clearly, and his visage broke so easily. Surely something was amiss. Maybe an alien infection, maybe a parasite, maybe mind control, maybe-  
"(Y/N)."  
Skidding to a halt, you whip around, trying to find the source of the voice. The deep, level tone was definitely Spock's, but where is he??  
"Calm down, it's alright. I'm here." He soothes stepping out of an observation deck room. Delight fills you for a moment before you're filled with horror. Spock's eyes are flooded with tears, and his beautiful smooth nails are bitten to pieces. His soulless eyes seem torn and empty, a deathly sheen coating them.  
Your hand flies to your mouth and you rush over to him, tears blurring your vision. What is going on?! Why is he crying?? Why are you crying?!? What!??  
Wrapping your arms around his neck, you bury your face in his shoulder and he tentatively hugs back. Warmth floods you and the flow of tears slow to a stop. Resisting the urge to kiss him on the cheek as you pull away, you content yourself with brushing the tears from his cheek instead. He only stares at the floor, unresponsive.  
"Are you okay? What happened?"  
His arms circle your waist loosely, and he stares at the floor, "I must apologise for my actions. The mind meld has impacted me more than I thought. I was unable to block out your anxiety, and the situation seemed to amplify the problem. It was most logical for me to depart."  
"That's okay, Spock. It's all fine now. There's no need to worry." You soothe, keeping your voice as level as possible. In reality you feel like bursting out crying again, You've never seen Spock so vulnerable and emotional.  
The Vulcan rests his head gently on the side of your neck, his lips to your shoulder. His lips to your shoulder??? Don't scream with joy. Don't you dare, (y/n) (l/n).  
Gentle hands around your waist pull you closer and his breathing quickens, the green blush you so adore painting his throat like love bites.  
His warm mouth hovers tentatively over your throat and you bite your lip, screaming on the inside. Slowly and carefully, he moves his mouth to brush daintily over yours, so full of temptation and want. Just kiss already!  
But the touch doesn't come- and the cold sweeps in as he pulls away, folding his hands back and staring at the floor.   
Your eyes start to water and thoughts spiral in your head. But you'll be damned if you let that show, so you merely smile painfully at him and step backwards.  
A loud buzz makes you wince and Dr McCoy's voice blurts through the speakers, "All personnel that came on the away mission to Jsi and any personnel that are having difficulty manoeuvring limbs, please immediately report to sickbay and do not come into contact with anyone else. This is of utmost importance."  
Spock's eyes widen, and your thoughts sweep up into a violent storm.


	8. Chapter 8- Falter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *sighs wistfully* oh I love torturing readers

What went so wrong? A moment ago you were in heaven, so close to kissing the man of your dreams. Now, you're briskly walking beside him in silence to the sickbay, cursing every diety you can think of. And then swiftly apologising.  
When you finally arrive, Sickbay is packed with worried looking people. Examinations are being performed on medical beds, and the staff are all wearing masks and gloves. You step closer to Spock, leaning on him reassuringly. His only reaction is brushing his knuckles against yours.  
"Ah, Spock. And (Y/n) too." Bones smiles, but sorrow is plain to see underneath it, "We've isolated the virus from the Jsian patient, and it turns out it's spread by bodily fluids. Both of you need to undergo an examination." He sighs, leading you to the examining beds, "we're trying to find a cure, but so far there's been no luck."  
Spock inclines his head, "I severely hope you are not relying on luck, Doctor. Medical skills should be your priority"  
Bones rolls his eyes and motions to the bed, "You first, (Y/n). Spock can wait his turn for that snide comment."  
You smile as Spock opens his mouth to argue, but thinks better of it. The rubber texture of the bed is cool underneath you.  
McCoy sets about scanning and noting things, and eventually lets you sit back up, "There. See, Spock, it's not so difficult to be a good patient."  
He smiles gratefully at you as Spock takes your place on the medical bed. Despite the situation, you take time to admire his physique, and wonder what the kiss would've tasted like, had he given in. Those delicate hands of his settle neatly on his lean stomach as Bones scans him.  
But McCoy's hand falters, and the smile fades. He takes a long hard look at his instruments and exhales sharply, "Spock... I..."  
To his credit, all Spock does when the realisation hits him is close his eyes, but the emotion behind the action is voluminous.  
Taking a step back, your eyes widen. No. Nonono No. It doesn't work like this. It can't be happening. This can't be happening.  
"Can I make the assumption from your reaction that I have the virus, Doctor?"   
His voice is hoarse and breaks at the end. You cover your mouth with your hand and tremble.  
McCoy nods, his eyes downcast. He sets aside the instruments and allows Spock to get up, "You'll have to be isolated. I'll perform some more tests on you."  
Spock's tongue darts out to wet his lips in fear and you can tell he's in danger of crying. He gives a perfunctory nod to Bones before getting up off the medical bed, glancing at you. His eyes are deadened, and his face is blank.  
McCoy turns to a security guard, and stares at his boots, his voice quiet but not a whisper. He knows better than to whisper infront of a Vulcan, "Take him to the brig."   
You watch them leave, numb sorrow invading your senses as a thought occurs to you: If he had kissed you, you would be doomed to death


	9. Chapter 9- MCCOYS FULL MEDICAL REPORT

A horrible virus, which weakens the bones and makes the muscles twitch and spasm. The resulting effect is the victim is locked in place, whilst their body contorts, and bones are snapped and splintered.

First, rigidity occurs in the hands. Fingers cannot be manipulated, and hand is unresponsive. Twitching is possible. The condition spreads up the arm to the rest of the body, where acidic toxins are released, which eat away at the bones. The patient will most likely be delirious from pain.

Once the victim is completely rigid and locked, the spasms will occur, along with froth in the mouth, sweating and most likely, screaming. The violent spasms causes the already-weak bones to snap, and the body will continue to spasm and twitch until the neck snaps, or any other such fatal damage occurs. Bodily fluids, e.g. saliva, blood and sweat spread the virus.

Current deaths caused by virus: Vera N Lynn, Unknown Jsian.

There is no known cure.


	10. Chapter 10- To Live Empty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> fluffy angst :<

You numbly flip the page with a flick of your wrist. The report is McCoy's diagnosis of the virus, and it spares no details of the gruesome death victims suffer. Every word inflicts a deeper wound, and the stamped 'No known cure.' is the final blow.  
Cradling your head in your hands, you sigh and rub at your blurry eyes. It had been only a few minutes since Spock was sent to the brig, but it feels like a year of mourning has passed and another hundred years are to come. You had hoped to find some consolation for Spock, some benefit to the virus perhaps, or dare you even hope of a cure, but nothing revealed itself, and now you cry into your hands in your quarters.  
Wait.  
You cry into your hands.  
Hands.  
But Spock's hands- the ones you had admired before the diagnosis. They were as nimble as ever, no cramping at all. It was a slim feeble hope, but a hope nonetheless, and you swiftly pick up your PADD and sprint all the way to Sickbay.  
McCoy is leaning over a bubbling tincture of some kind, and mumbling in frustration. He looks up sharply when you run in and smiles woefully when he greets you, false happiness in his words, "(y/n)! Always a pleasure. What can I do for you?"  
"His hand- hands, his hands!" you express, so desperate to gets the words out that they jumble over each other in a mad dash to be free, "Spock's hands- they're fine!"  
McCoy squints at you, utterly confused, "Fine? Whaddaya m-"  
Shock falls like a thick blanket over him and he gasps, nodding and dropping the vial he was holding, it cracks when it hits the counter but he barely blinks, grabbing his medkit and running out. You follow him, sprinting as fast as your legs can take you.  
Eventually the brig careens into view, seemingly endless years away but closing slowly. Bones leans on the wall with exhaustion, but you push past him to stand infront of the brig glass, dizzy with exhaustion.  
Spock is sat on the plain white bench, his hands pressed together in meditation. He raises an eyebrow but seems pleased to see you. You ignore the dart of his eyes that take you in, but can't help but feel self-conscious of the state you must be in from all that running.  
For a sweet moment you wonder at the marvel of his soft skin, and what it would feel like brushing away your tears, as you did for him. Coughing, you straighten your dress and ball up your hands in excitement, "Spock- your hands, you can move them, right?"  
The smallest of sly smiles flickers across his face before being buried, "I can; what would you propose I do with them?"  
A sunlight-warm grin spreads across your face as you jump up and down in excitement, "Yes! That's it! See, loss of movement in the hands is the first symptom, and you don't have that-"  
McCoy interjects worriedly, "Hold on now, I scanned Spock myself and he definitely had the virus. Maybe it works different on Vulcans."  
Spock was crushed, not by the Doctor's words, he had accepted his fate, but at the swift fall of the golden smile he loved so dearly from your face. Hopeless misery replaced it, and he felt he might cry.  
"Could you please test him again?" You murmur, staring hard at your boots. You didn't dare to look up, and bear witness to the emptiness in Spock's eyes.  
McCoy says the only words he can, a soft "Of course.", and pulls out his medical gear. Spock obediently rises, the movement strangely ethereal and yet so damningly real, and slots his arm through the gap in the glass, pale skin almost translucent against the harsh white lights.  
A moment passes- thick with tension- until Bones leans back, his face unreadable, "Well" he sighs, packing away his equipment, "There's good news and bad news."  
"Isn't there ever?" Spock bemoans, running a hand through his usually perfect hair. You can't help but make a small sound of pleasure at his messy raven locks. Spock notices and sends the Vulcan equivalent of a tired but sly smile over to you, whereas Bones is oblivious, "The bad news is that Spock definitely has the virus," the smile dissapates, "But the good news is that because of his wacky Vulcan insides it doesn't affect him like us humans, he won't suffer any symptoms."  
Spock raises an eyebrow and you scrunch your face up in confusion, "So... He's a carrier?"  
He nods gravely, "that's what I was just about to get to. He may not have the symptoms but he still has the virus, meaning he still has to be isolated."  
Gingerly packing away his equipment, he turns to you, sincerity in his eyes, "I've got to go back to Sickbay, (y/n). You coming or staying?"  
Glancing over to Spock, you wonder what it must be like for him. He's always been a mystery towards you, but now he felt simultaneously closer and yet more puzzling than ever. You hoped to change that.  
"I'll stay a while longer, thanks Leo."  
He nods and begins walking back down the corridor. You watch him as he leaves.  
Unbeknownst to you, Spock's eyes linger on you also. He admires the subtle curls to your hair, the smooth skin, gently blushed when he plays his words right. He admires your mind, that sharp wit hidden by a flurry of thoughts, constant evaluating and deciding and worrying. Your almost-logic, the kind that allows you to expertly evaluate and decide on the safest course of action, and then cause you to cry because of a simple presentation to a class, bewilders and draws him to you.  
Is that what I must be like, to pure Vulcans? He ponders, ever lost in thought about you.  
Feeling his gaze on you, you swiftly turn around. The sharp prick of tears overwhelm you and you press to the glass, desperate to hold him dear. You'll never be able to touch him like you wanted to. Never be able to run your hands through his silky hair, never hold his strong body against yours, never cry into his shoulder or hold his gentle hands in your own- your lip curls back and you choke back a sob. You've never felt so alone. The small taste of love you had experienced only makes the solitude you'd been fine with before seem so bleak and harsh now.  
Anything, to be able to go back in time and tell yourself to be more forward, to realise earlier, to love him more. Anything.  
Teardrops run along the glass, pooling like blood on the floor. Maybe you're wrong. Maybe he doesn't feel the same. It had been nothing, after all. A simple touch, a drawn-out breath. Did it mean anything? Was it your imagination?  
Spock gently rests against the glass, eyes gently glittering with unshed tears. Oh, to be as strong as he. To hold the world's grief on your shoulders and not leave a tear's trace. To live empty, devoid. No anxiety, no balled fists or quiet sobs. No regret or despair or-  
But even as you think it you know it's not true. Spock isn't emotionless at all, far from it.  
"Please don't cry." He breathes, voice faltering, "Please."  
Pressing your hands hard into your eyes, you try your best to stifle the bitter tears.  
"I'm sorry." You choke out, eyes flicking from one place to the next, "I shouldn't be crying. This is a good thing, right? So why does it hurt so much..."  
Letting out a defeated, dry laugh you sit on the floor, holding your knees to your chest and leaning on the glass. You watch Spock as he kneels to sit beside you. Almost touching, almost together.  
"I wish I could comfort you, say the pain won't last. It'll all turn out perfect, like one of your human fairytales." He sighs, pressing his hand to the glass, "I despise seeing you so distraught."  
Using your dress sleeve to wipe away the last of your tears, you move your hand on the glass to cover his. A rare smile graces his face, and his breath fogs the glass slightly.  
Sharing a woeful smile, you gaze into his honey-hazel eyes, "I'm so sorry, I shouldn't be crying. Its such good news that the symptoms don't affect you."  
He sighs, moving closer, "It's true indeed I am pleased by the fact I will not end up like Ensign Lynn, but... To never be blessed with tactile sensation again..." his voice turns hoarse, "I am aghast."  
Watching a single tear tread its careful path down the cracked stone of his face, you ache numbly. It all feels like a nightmare, "How can I help you?"  
"I... Need to focus. Need to apply logic to the situation." He breathes, leaning back away from the glass, "The Jsian priest wanted us to leave, why? It can be assumed that he knew of the plague. Yet he refused assistance?"  
You worry at your lip as you shuffle into a more comfortable position, "Maybe he didn't want to endanger us. But then surely he would have told us the problem? Maybe he was being pressured into keeping us away by someone else?"  
He pauses, tapping his chin with his finger, "One thing I've been puzzled by; the nature of their Gods. Specifically their reptilian appearance. There are no known reptile creatures on Jsi, and the gods date back almost to the beginning of their culture, so no outside interference can be held accountable.  
"So either they're a hell of a good guesser- or somethings up." You grin, tilting your head.  
He purses his lips into a small smile, "Perhaps I should pay them a visit."


	11. Chapter 11- Whipped Cream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> very short oops sorry

"Pleeeeeeaaaaaaaase Captain? Pretty please? Please with whipped cream and a cherry on top?" you whine, eyes glittering with puppy-like hope to Jim, who smiles and shakes his head, furrowing his brow, "Look (Y/N), I love the fact you're taking control, but now is not the time. With Spock a carrier and the virus still virulent down below, it's just too dangerous."  
"But that's just it- because he already has the virus, it's safe for him to go down to Jsi and find out more!"  
"Then why are you asking to go there??" He coughs, screwing his face up in confusion.  
"I want to go with him. Please, Kirk. I know the risks, I can't let him go alone."  
"Well I know the risks and they're too great. I won't have another member of my crew die. Besides, why would Spock allow you? It's illogical."  
"I, err, haven't spoken to him about it yet." you mumble.  
He nods, sighing and turning back to his paperwork, "Spock wouldn't let you even if I allowed it. He'd go all stoic and factual, you know him."  
You're desperate to argue further, but the tone of his voice is final. What now? Abandon Spock on the mission you suggested? Find another way?  
Nervous butterflies swarm in your stomach as you nod to Jim and walk away. As someone who never breaks rules, defying the Captain is gonna be awful. But the other option is to let your new-found love go on a dangerous mission alone. If he's hurt, you'd be responsible.  
Sighing and tucking back your hair, you head for your quarters. Time to do a little extracurricular studying.

~~~

In the cargo bay of the Enterprise, a transporter bay for goods is being booted up by Ensign (L/n). She does it with extreme care, adjusting controls to the exact degree to make it safe for transporting her. After completing this, she rushes to the main transporters to say a temporary goodbye to Spock.  
Unbeknownst to her, the Captain watches on the security cameras, rolling his eyes.  
"She's a smart kid, I'll give her that." he chuckles, "Send someone from security down to bring her to m-"  
Choking in surprise, he watches as she clutches Spock's hand in her own, face warm with a blush. Kirk knows about Vulcan culture, and he knows what's up.  
Wheezing, he waves over the security cadet, "New plan: Follow Ensign (L/n) on her private mission. Ensure she gets back safely."


	12. Chapter 12- Punishment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hello im a dumbass so from now on im gonna be doing / instead of italics. im sorry i just dont have the technical skill hnfhgf

Darting behind a cargo box to hide from an engineer, you quickly perform some breathing exercises. Hell yeah you're scared, bloody terrified, but that's to be expected. You can deal with the expected. Mostly, anyway.  
"Ensign (L/n)?"  
Shrieking and then clapping your hand over your mouth, you spin around to see a security cadet you don't recognise smiling nervously at you.  
"Yeah?" You gulp.  
"I'm Cadet Lawson. I'm here to assist."  
You didn't realise how desperate for help you'd been until you heard those words, and you release a breath of relief, "Who- uh... Sure, just don't tell the Captain."  
Lawson, a freckled stout boy with chestnut hair, smiles genially in answer. You take that to mean 'Ok' and turn back to walking to the cargo transporter, all hope of secrecy lost with your scream from earlier.  
With someone from security with you you look less suspicious anyway.

"Alright Laws- I'm gonna call you Laws- I've no idea where you came from or why you're here or what you know but I do know this: the mission I'm on is dangerous. I'm illegally beaming down to Jsi, the planet infected with a plague, on a transporter that is meant to be used for cargo, to interrogate some aliens. Are you sure you wanna come?"  
Laws nods cheerfully, his hair bouncing as he moves.  
Grimacing, you plug in the final settings of the transporter, "Nice. Now I just gotta convince myself."

~~~

You set the timer to 5 seconds and start running to the transport area, only to fall flat on your face with a loud "FUCK". Laws is transported away above you as you scramble up, running back to the controls and setting another timer. This time, you make the sprint there without tripping over, and feel the familliar pins and needles in your chest, spreading outwards.  
Well, at least you didn't die before the mission had even started, nice one (Y/n), you laugh.

After a load of glittery shit, you find your footing in a dense forest next to a squatting Laws, who looks pretty fuckin scared. Which is fair, given the shit storm you just accidentally beamed him into.  
Just outside the trees, the Jsian priest is screaming furiously at Spock, and wildly waving Spock's own Starfleet phaser at him. The poor Vulcan has his hands up in surrender, and is trying to talk down the priest in vain.  
"Shiiiiit" you mutter, crouching behind the tree and awkwardly crab-scuttling over to Laws, who is frozen in terror. Somehow, seeing someone so helpless and scared seemed to take the edge off of your own anxiety.  
"Laws-" you hiss, poking him in the stomach, "dude, get behind the tree."  
He mutely nods, and climbs backward, nervously peering out. No offence but he's a pretty useless security cadet, you smile reassuringly at him before swallowing your fear and standing up, stepping out into the clearing.  
Fumbling with your phaser, you advance forward, "Put the phaser down."  
The priest spins around, snarling and raising it's phaser to point directly at you, it's hands shaking violently.  
"Zßete ēch kat! Zßete!" It spits.  
/"Leave this place! Leave!"/  
"Why do you want us to leave?" Spock adds, inching slowly towards them.   
"The Gods... They do not want you here. You must leave! No interference!"  
"Why do they want us to leave? And who are your Gods?" You blurt out, desperate for answers. This is all too much. You just want to go back to your bloody deskjob in Starfleet HQ, for god's sakes. Heh, gods.  
"You do not know?" It tilts it's head sharply, "The gods are everywhere. They watch always. They know all." The priest's tounge clicks nervously as he chews on nothing, as if he's tasting his words, choosing them carefully, "Some of us... Some Jsian's.... They doubted the God's power. Fools. Utter fools."  
Your voice is hoarse, and your body tense, "What happened?"   
The priest's phaser waves in his steely grip as he chokes out the words: /"Punishment happened."/


	13. Chapter 13- Rain, Rain, Go Away

"Four moonrises ago, a ceremony was held outside the chapel. I was trying to explain our Gods to the non-believers. I was frightened for them, most of them were only young, and yet they challenged the Gods like it was nothing." 

He slowly lowers his gun arm, weary and saddened, "It was my fault, what happened after. I should never have brought it to Their attention. I was a fool, just like the rest of them. Believing I could restore their faith with one simple speech. I suppose I half-wished that the Gods would do something to help me prove to them... And... They did."

Spock's eyes meet yours in a worried glance before filling the tense silence, "They sent down a plague?"

The Priest nods gravely, "They made it rain. But it was a different kind of rain, black thick drops that smelled of putrid, rotting flesh. I knew instantly something was wrong, and hid in the chapel. I tried to get as many as I could inside, but the non-believers despise the chapel, and took the long walk back to their houses. As far as I know, they are all dead." 

On instinct your hand flies to your mouth in shock. How could the Gods be so cruel...

You can see the horror at the back of the Priest's eyes, now. His gaze is watery and unfocused, he watches past mistakes instead of his surroundings. How could he not, when he has been covering for murderers all his life. 

Spock, ever logical, lowers his voice in respect when he continues, "Does that mean the foliage is infected?"

"No, another rain came after that. Normal rain. But the damage had been done, and I estimate only half of the Jsian population are left, and decreasing." he shudders, and pulls the phaser up, levelling it at you. Your eyes widen and you step back.

"That is why I have to kill you. There can be no interference, it is the God's will." His eyes harden into resolve and he stills his shaking hands with effort. His tortured face hints at the pain this causes him.

"No. You must not. Put the phaser away." Spock stresses, moving infront of you, "If you do this, I will be forced to kill you." His words are steady but you can hear the fear behiend them.

The priest only sighs miserably, and sets the phaser to kill, "It matters not who I shoot."

Click.


	14. 14- Excuses

A strange thing happened then.

You cried out in horror, bursting forward in a flurry of activity. This can't be happening. This is all a nightmare.

Later, you won't be able to recall exactly what happened, but in short: you stepped around Spock, and forwards, sheilding his body.

Everything speeds into normal time quicker than you would like as you crumble backwards, caught by Spock before you can hit the ground.

His cry of anguish is lost on you as your mind wanders off in shock, distracted by the Priest, who's brow is furrowed in confusion, looking at the phaser as if it had grown a head.

Blinking, you look down at where the beam of energy hit you, and see that it barely singed your clothes, let alone killed you.

"I'm alright" you choke out, voice shaking from the shock.

Spock is silently cradelling your face, your body laid over his knees, his eyes glittering with tears. Tears that would actually kill you if they touched you.

"Spock, seriously. I'm okay, see?" You insist, pulling at your dress to show the faint burn marks.

He frowns, but doesn't have time to contemplate this before the Priest points the phaser again, "What happened? What did you do?!" Panic sets in as he frantically waves it, "Fix it! FIX IT, PLEASE! PLEASE!"

You grab your communicator and swallow nervously, "Three to beam up. Leave the Jsian." 

~~~

Kirk is greeted with a very odd sight when he watches the away-team materialize on the transporter.

Cadet Lawson, the security member he sent with (Y/n), is in a kneeling position, with a hand clamped over his mouth and his eyes wide.

Ensign (Y/n) herself is sitting on Mr Spock's lap, breathing heavily with her hair a mess and a burn mark on her dress.

And, possibly most shocking of all, Mr Spock is gently holding the Ensign's face, love clear as day in his eyes.

This mad ensemble lasts only a second before they all scramble up and brush themselves off, Spock staring at (Y/n) the entire time, seemingly puzzled.

"Well, that was... Eventful, by the looks of it." Kirk expresses, rasing a brow, "wish I'd been there to see it."

You squirm under the Captain's gaze, expecting him to be surprised at your arrival, but he doesn't seem to care at all, "Captain, we have gathered data on the Jsian's and their gods." You recite, a small golden feeling of pride in your gut. Not only did you just pull off a secret mission, but you gained important information too. You go girl!

Spock had been staring in puzzlement at you, but as you speak his gaze snaps to the Captain, "Jim. May I explain the situation in private?"

Surprised, Kirk nods, 'Uh, sure Spock. This way."

You watch as Kirk leads Spock out of the transporter bay, rubbing at your face. Tiredness is seeping in, and you wonder how you've kept it at bay so long.

"If anyone needs me, I'll be in my quarters." You yawn, walking out of the room.

Laws pouts and flops back down onto the floor, pulling puppy-eyes on the transporter operator, "is it possible to beam me directly to security so I don't have to walk?"

~~~

Spock watches Jim Kirk rub at his face and sit down, muttering to himself, "By rain, you say? They must have access to Jsi's weather patterns."

"Jim, there is another issue I would like to discuss with you." He stares at the floor, his body stuff.

Jim looks up, "Of course, go ahead."

"I-" Spock sighs and lets his neutral mask fall, pain and confusion mixing in a cruel potion on turmoil on his face, "Why did you let the Ensign follow me?!"

Kirk steps back, "Spock, I'm sorry. She did it without my permission-"

"And- and why did she..." He sinks into the chair, running a hand through his neat black hair, "She almost got hurt, Jim. The phaser had a machinery block whilst firing, like the helm and Comms. She could have died!"

Jim stands up and walks over to the Vulcan, pity on his face, "Calm down, Spock. She didn't die, thats the point. She's safe." 

"She jumped in front of me. That was illogical." He bemoans stubbornly, head in his hands.

Quietly, "But you moved in front of her first, didn't you?"

Spock just stares at the floor, feeling empty and yet so overwhelmed at the same time. A moment of silence passes before he glances up, his voice dark and accusatory, "I have been taking advantage of her."

Frowning, Kirk looks into his eyes, "What do you mean?"

"She doesn't know, that every time she takes my hand... I should have told her. Even worse, I've encouraged it. I keep finding excuses to touch her hands, I can't help it" he stresses, his voice growing hoarse, "I don't know how to stop."

Although he's alarmed, Kirk keeps his cool, "It's alright Spock, maybe you need to have a chat with her, sort things out."

The Vulcan science officer carefully reassembles his blank facade, and nods appreciatively to his Captain, "Thank you for your time." before striding out. The emotional link between him and his Ensign is blank, suggesting that she is asleep. Spock lets a small sigh escape him, before turning towards the brig. He might as well take the chance to do some meditation.


	15. Chapter 15-  Mars

You jolt awake, shuddering as cold sweat runs in rivers down your back. Taking a moment to breathe normally again, you curse quietly. Another nightmare of the infected Jsian from the church. Great.

Sitting quietly, you look around your room. When boarding the Enterprise you had made sure that your room was absolutely perfect. The (f/c) drapes on the walls and covers contrasts delightfully with the serene silver walls. Instead of the ship's harsh industrial lighting, you had rigged up fairy lights along the walls, giving the area a warm glow. Posters of people and places that inspire you are neatly positioned around, and you smile softly. If there's anything that can make you smile, it's the safety and security of your room.

Are you alright?

Screaming, you promptly fall off your bed and look around frantically, "Who's there??"

Ensign? Are you alright?

"What the hell..." You mumble to yourself. The voice is very familiar, and doesn't seem to have a source in your room. 

Experimentally, you think the words Who's there? hard. 

Silence.

Shaking your head, you laugh. What were you thinking? Of course there's n-

I would be grateful if you visited me in the brig

You blink and stand up. What the actual fuck?? Was that Spock??

Does this mean he can read your thoughts?? Fuuuuuuuck.

Nevertheless, you gallantly pull on your uniform and make your way to the brig, desperately trying to keep your mind clean, to the delight of that little bitchass voice in your head.

~~~

"Ensign. How pleasant of you to join me." 

You twiddle your thumbs together in nervousness and send him a half-smile, but his gaze is focused intently on your hands. 

"Commander?" You probe worriedly.

His head jerks up and he swallows thickly, folding his own hands behiend his back, "Just Spock is acceptable, Ensign." he nods.

"Well, then you gotta call me (Y/n)" you beam.

Brief amusement flickers across his face as he shuffles his feet, "I would like that. I suppose you are wondering what brought you here?"

Damn, you had completely forgotten about that! Stupid sexy Vulcan distracting you.

"Yeah! Can you read my mind??"

"Not quite. Because of the mild meld we shared, it seems I can now sense your emotions, and send coherent thoughts if I concentrate."

"That's wack" you breathe, eyes wide, "Can I send thoughts to you?"

"I see no reason why not" he mused, eyebrow raised, "try focusing on the words you want to send, and then... Pushing them in my direction."

Spock watches you screw up your face in determination with a warm heart, fighting to keep a smile away. He's just about to suggest an alternative method when an alien thought intrudes upon his mind, "Mars bar?" He exclaims in confusion.

You flush red, "yeah, um, I haven't eaten in a while and I'm hungry. It was the only thing I could think of."

You watch in surprise as an amused grin spreads like wildfire across Spock's face, and he mutters quietly, "Mars... Well, Mars girl. I did not request your attendance for only that matter. There is something else I want to discuss with you."

His chestnut eyes flicker over to your hands again and you frown, "Is there something wrong, Spock?"

A sharp intake of breath passes his lips when you speak his name.

"Mars, I-"

A wailing alarm interrupts him, and the lights darken, the bold red letters scream for attention on the screen behind you, "RED ALERT"


	16. Chapter 16- Red Alert

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> italics are just like not working for me right now so use common sense. that made no sense. im uploading this at like 3am im sorry have a nice day-

"Captain to the bridge! Red alert!"

Kirk scrambles up from his perch on the chair, yelling an "on my way" before sprinting to the Turbolifts.

When he arrives in the bridge everyone is panicked- Chekov exclaims through his thick Russian accent about an uncloaking ship directly ahead, orbiting Jsi. The ship is collosal, towering over the Enterprise, the metal spikes adorning it twice the size of the entire bridge. The metal plating on it seems to shimmer and fluctuate, it's colour and texture changing rapidly.

"They're hailing us, Captain!" Uhura blurts out, eyes wide.

"On screen!"

The view of Jsi dissapates as the screen flickers, flashing black for a second before a ghastly sight comes into view: 

The inside of the ship is a nauseous dull green, with black armour and weaponry hung up like carcasses. In the dead centre of the screen is Jsi's vile 'god', grey scales stretched over sharp, thin bones. Face gaunt with numb hatred. A smile peppered with sharp canines splits open to greet the Captain, who shudders involuntarily.

"Who are you?" He swallows, staring hard at the lovecraftian horror.

"My name is Vis. I am one of the Gods of Jsi." the creature drawls, it's voice a sharp hiss, "Why are you involving yourself in our affairs?"

Behiend Kirk, (y/n) enters and sits at her post, walking widely around Kirk to avoid appearing on the screen.

"You are mistreating the citizens of Jsi. They have done nothing to warrant such destruction." he motions, voice fluctuating with emotion. 

"On the contrary. But we are not here to debate religion. Are you not impressed by our Human language? We spent many time programming our translators to accommodate it." The creature boasts proudly.

Kirk suppresses the urge to inform it that 'human' is not a language.

"We have been watching you for a long time, Captain. We have come to a decision." It blurts, grinning widely, "Leave this star system immediately, or die."


End file.
